Radio Free Rascal
by Elenijoon
Summary: While on a hunt on the East Coast, Dean hears a radio show whose hosts voice is music to his ears.
1. Chapter 1

_"Hey there, you're listening to Radio Free Rascal, and I'm the Rascal here with you on this lonely Monday evening. I've been getting some great requests tonight! Bring on more, you know I want everything you got."_ Dean smirked at the gravelly, deep and soothing voice of the radio shows host, aptly named 'Rascal'. The show is what brought him out at two am to drive the sleek black Impala through the back woods of the eastern shore peninsula . It wasn't like him to come this far east, but with Sammy at college and his dad gone, hell bent on his own revenge and hunts, he needed something to fill his time and pay his gas. The young hunter had been in this small town area for about a week, it was the longest he could remember staying in such a podunk town since he was probably thirteen. Dean would be lying if he said it wasn't partially because of the exquisite radio show that played from eleven pm to two am. Whether he was in his fleabag motel room or in his beautiful beast of a car, he was tuned to this station permanently and had yet to miss a show since his arrival.

Being in a small area for so long, Dean began hearing of the local lore, a bible that couldn't be pulled from the pulpit, a haunted mansion (which he was still searching for), and of course, some demonic activities in a small bar out in the woods. The area was a swampy mess, known as the Black Forest, the locals claimed evil things had always existed in the forest that span between two towns, Pocomoke City and Snow Hill. Innocent sounding enough, sure, but one couldn't deny there was some freaky shit happening not only in the woods, but in the small clusters of towns on the peninsula. Tonight he couldn't stand the stuffy hotel room any longer, and with the bright blue moon shimmering on the river, Dean got a case of wanderlust that was simply impossible to ignore. The desire lead him to parking in a crumbling, decrepent boating dock out in the middle of bumfuck, the moon was shimmering on the water and had the cracked pavement lit right up just like it was daylight. His radio was of course tuned to The Rascal's radio show, the opening song blaring through his speakers while a smile was plastered across his face. As the music faded out Dean's hands clenched the steering wheel in anticipation of the deep voice. _"Alright Y'all, I got a treat for ya this evenin'."_ At that the hunter straightened in his seat, turning the crackling radio louder, his heart thumping louder than it probably should. "_All my lovely listeners know that I normally only do requests for songs, but starting tonight I'll be sectioning off an hour of my time for call in's! Ya can call in to talk about drama, music, local events, I'm down for whatever!"_ Rascals voice jumped an octave higher, he was obviously thrilled with the idea he laid on his audience, this caused a warmth in Dean's gut, that wasn't completely unfamiliar. "So with that badass announcement to my show, let's get this thing on the road, I've got several callers waitin' already." Dean held his shitty, blocky cell phone in his hand, finger hovering over the call button, but he couldn't bring himself to call The Rascal, so as the show wound to a close, Dean revved the engine of the impala and whipped out onto the highway. Not wanting to miss the closing statement for the show Dean spent a few extra moments hovering in his car. _"Thanks for all the requests an call in's tonight gang! Great to hear from you all, and I hope to hear from y'all again tomorrow night! With that I'll leave ya with some good ole' Johnny Cash. Rascal's gone, over and out."_ God's gonna cut you down began to play promptly after Rascal's departure, the beat was familiar and it comforted Dean. Memories of his old man, and the times before living on the road flashed in his mind, and the sound of his dear mom's voice singing this song to him as a baby brought a tender smile to his face.

With a grunt of not quite pain, not quite pleasure, Dean pulled himself from the car, for being such a land yacht it really lacked comfortable seating. But this car was his one true love, well that and Radio Free Rascal. Dean fumbled with his room key till he managed to get the door open, he dropped his worn leather jacket over the small, stained armchair but didn't bother to remove his boots or any other article of clothing. He was a sleep before his head even hit the pillow. Subconsciously Dean was hoping the nightmares would be less intense after being able to hear Rascal's voice for much longer than usual, but no such luck. Like clockwork Dean was startled awake at six am drenched in a layer of ice cold sweat, his left shoulder burning as always. Shakily he dragged his aching body to the dingy bathroom, splashing water on his face, the hunter avoided looking at himself in the mirror, knowing he would hate what he saw, all dark bags and hollowed cheeks. Muttering to himself he cracked open a beer. "Always the same damn dream..." And it was, always torturous pain followed by a flash of white light, a flutter of black wings and the searing burn on his arm, every day following the dream he checked his shoulder, and no makes appeared. The dream had been with Dean for years, but the white hot burn on his shoulder and flutter of wings was new and had only begun after coming to the Eastern Shore. Vaguely he wondered if they were somehow linked, but decided that was impossible. Within the next few hours Dean was dressed in a simple black suit, false FBI badge and dark sunglasses to hide his sunken eyes, there was a murder case popping up every ten years on the same patch of field. All the victims were women of same hair color, complexion and age. Dean was sure he had yet another case to keep him hanging around this swamp town, and another reason to tune into Rascals radio show tonight, maybe, just maybe he'd be bold enough to give a ring this time around.


	2. Chapter 2

**{Castiel's POV}**

Chuck switched the station on at exactly eleven p.m allowing Castiel's deep, gravelly laughter to flow over the airwaves for a moment, and when the DJ realized he was on air his nimble fingers chucked a magazine at his friend before pulling out an introduction. "Hey y'all, sorry 'bout the introduction this evenin' my wing man over here is being my own personal comedian." Cas paused for a moment, smiling against the Mic before continuing. "Alright, so for any new listeners out there, this is Radio Free Rascal and I'm your resident Rascal, here to bring you sweet jams for the next couple 'o hours. And y'all know I've started taking call in's, so while I'm blowing your mind with 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' by the master Bob Dylan, I want you to get your phones out to bombard me with!" The DJ grinned again before selecting the song, it was his favorite version of the song and he felt a good start to a rather relaxed show. Chuck pointed to his phone, which was flashing lights in his face, making the blue eyed man grin, indicating several callers on hold. It still shocked Castiel to this day how popular his show had gotten in this town, it was small and pretty hillbilly-ish if he was honest, but something about the way the beach and the forest were only twenty minutes in either direction.

It was many years ago now, he was a teen when his parents dragged him from his urban home in Boston to the small swamp town of Pocomoke, in time he grew to love it, but it took a long while. Now here he was making his living doing what he loved most, playing good music for the people of this town, and connecting with each and every one of them. As the song wound down Cas took a deep breath and sighed into the Mic. "Well that was the one and only Bob Dylan, and now I got some people waiting to chat it up here, so we'll put the music on hold for a second." With a quick click of a button Castiel was live with a caller. "Hey there thanks for calling in, who've I got on the line?" And in a flurry of questions and tunes and callers there was only ten minutes of Radio Free Rascal left.

"So we got time for one more caller, and I don't have anyone waiting! What a damn scandal, I think I'm offended. Get out your damn phones and call me! First person in gets my last song dedicated to them!" He smiled against the mic as he watched the lines begin to blink with callers, soon all his available lines were being used up and he chuckled against the Mic, and after a few more moments more of suspense he chose the first line that blinked. "Hey there, you're the lucky last caller. What's you're name?" Castiel was shocked to hear a man's deep voice, smooth and thick like honey and it sent a hard shiver down his spine, it was rare he got male callers, even as requesters, and the sound of this man made more than just his chest tighten. "M' name's Dean Winchester, and uh- I've been in the area for about a week and I stumbled across your show one night." A smile spread across the man's face, hearing that someone out of town liked his show pleased him more than it probably should. "Well Dean, I'm happy to have ya on the show and thrilled that ya like it! Got any requests for your last song, or anything that's nagging ya?" He waited with bated breath for the man's reply, his fingers twitching in an odd nervous anticipation, he hadn't been this antsy since his first show nearly two years ago. "Well, Rascal, I called cause I wanna know more about you, I've been listening for about a week and the only thing I know is that you call yourself 'Rascal' and that's hardly something a guy can make friends off of." The response nearly knocked the wind from Cas' chest, and he could see Chuck warning about the show time, so with a reluctant sigh he answered. "Dean, how about I make you a promise? Every night that you call in, I'll reveal something about myself over the air. But I expect a fact about you each time you call." The dark haired man could hear the slight, dark chuckle of the other over the line. "Till next time then, Rascal." And just like that, Dean was gone, and Cas felt like he was riding a high of the most powerful drug known to man, he almost forgot to make his closing statement and select his song. "Thanks for the call in's tonight gang! And remember to keep tuning in for little facts about the Rascal himself! I'll leave you with 'Only the Good Die Young' by Billy Joel. Dean, this one's for you."

As Joel's low, smooth voice poured over the airwaves, Castiel ripped his headset off and stalked from the recording room, almost immediately he was met by an insistent and curious Chuck. "So dude, what was that all about? One of your lover boy's you had call in?" Cas shook his head, a exasperated sigh escaping his lips. "No Chuck, he called of his own accord, and I dunno if I want him to ever call again." The look on his friends face could only be described as incredulous a stammered reply flowed out of the shorter man's mouth. "Whoa dude, why? He seemed cool and he'll probably bring in an ass ton of listeners. Don't over think it man, just go home, have a beer and get some damn sleep. I'll see ya tomorrow." Before Cas even had a chance to respond, Chuck was out the door, so he took that as his queue to leave and grabbed his battered trench coat from the rack and headed home.

The entire drive back to his apartment he pondered the man Dean and his voice, and his statement, never before had anyone been interested in who Rascal was. It took him by surprise, but he did smile a bit at the thought of possibly making a friend through his show. He needed more of those, that was for damn sure. By the time he found himself in bed, Castiel was thinking of a million different facts about himself for Dean, and fantasizing about his caller's answers. Castiel fell asleep with a smile on his face and the hum of Dean's voice in his ear.


End file.
